Fractured Freedom(71)

Me: I’m getting a massage.

Dante: I give you massages. What the hell are you going to get one for?

Me: I had a gift card from a patient, and the reviews on the website were good.



Also, I was practically addicted to his massages but needed to be self-sufficient sometimes. The man had done practically everything for me in the past week, other than accompanying me to work and putting on the nursing uniform to do my job. I figured I’d give him a break.



Dante: Mine are better. Mine are the only ones you should ever be getting.

Me: Oh, please. This guy has strong hands too. It’s only a twenty-minute one. I’ll be back soon.

Dante: A guy?

Me: Yes.

Dante: Where are you?

Me: I’ll be back soon.

Dante: Where. Are. You?



I rolled my eyes and let the young man finish what he’d been doing. I’d received a gift card from coworkers as a welcome gift at the hospital. I’d paid for a way to relax, where I could digest my thoughts. It was a smart thing to do, I thought.

My mind whispered that I was avoiding what I was terrified of, though.

As the young man turned on the lights in the room, there was a knock at the door. “One minute,” he called out. “We’re just finishing up in here.”

The door swung open, and there stood my overprotective superhero, breathing hard and looking ready to cause havoc. “You’re done now.”

The young man’s eyes widened. “Mr. Armanelli, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“Ms. Hardy is not to have any massages here unless they’re approved through me.”

“Of course.” He nodded once and didn’t even glance my way before rushing out.

Dante prowled toward me, his green eyes as bright as I imagined the aurora borealis to be against the dark sky. Both bright and dark, his pupils dilated like he was about to devour me. “Why were another man’s hands on you?”

I grabbed the sheet from my butt and pulled it to myself as I sat up. “Are you kidding me right now? You can’t barge into another person’s massage.”

“Another person? You’re not some other person, Lilah. You’re mine. Even if you’re avoiding the hell out of me right now.”

“I’m not—” My eyes darted everywhere around the room because I couldn't look at him and straight-up lie.

“Lie down,” he commanded.

“What?” I whispered.

“Lie down, Lamb. Now.” There was no room for objections. “Back on the table and lose the sheet.”

“Dante, we can go to your room.”

“We’re staying here. This hotel seems to not understand how close we are, even after I made that clear to Leonardo. He should have spread the news to the spa staff also.”

“They were very accommodating and—”

“Lie down.” His voice was sharp and cut through the calm ambience of the room. I jumped and did as I was told this time.

I stared up at him as he walked toward me. I bit my lip at how good he looked in his work attire. His loafers, slacks, and white-collared shirt tucked into his leather belt appeared so businesslike, I wouldn’t ever have guessed that underneath were stitched-up wounds, tattoos, and a man who delivered all forms of torture to men who deserved it. The only giveaway were those loafers, so clean and shiny with that brown leather, but one drop of red stained them.

One drop.

Was it the man’s from the hospital?

“Where were you tonight?”

He quirked his head at me. “At work.”

I raked my teeth over my lips and asked, “When you go to do the work that had you bleeding out in your shower, do you always feel this way after?”

“What way?”

“You’re not you,” I mumbled as I rearranged the sheet over my body and smoothed it so everything was covered as I stared up at him.

“Who am I then?” He leaned over me and set his hands against the massage table, on either side of my hips.

“A man who looks like he’s just done something crazy. A man whose job winds him up and shoots adrenaline through him when all I know of him is a man who can soothe a wild-eyed horse.”

“Well, you grew up down the street from my mom’s farm. So that’s the man you know me as.”

“Is there someone else I should know you as, though? Because you have blood on your shoe, Dante.”

I didn’t tell him about the man at work, didn’t tell him someone had accused him of murder. I wanted the easy excuse. I wanted him to give me an irrefutable explanation and for that to be the end of it.

My mind wanted to ignore it while my body was occupied with him right in front of me. The spiral around that dark, dark drain was starting to swirl, and I was going to cling to anything outside of it, even if it meant avoiding the real problems between us.

“I’m going to keep you safe, Lilah. You and your family and my family. That’s it. Everyone else and what they think of me doesn’t matter. Tonight, I protected my family, and the blood on my shoe is proof of that. Now, I’m here protecting you from another man’s hands.”

The knots in my stomach unraveled. I found the excuse and ignored that valedictorian brain of mine. “That’s what has you all wound up? The hotel staff seems to know you make the rules.”